Road Service
by Evil Little Dog
Summary: Alternate Universe. Ed and Al's car breaks down, leading to much consternation.


**Title:** Road Service

 **Author:** Evil Little Dog

 **Rating:** Teen for Language

 **Disclaimer:** This is a fictional work and I absolutely swear I am not making any money off of it.

 **Summary:** Ed and Al's car breaks down. Alternate universe.

* * *

The car sat on the side of the road, hood up, with one young blond man leaning against the back rear panel and the other stomping back and forth in front of it. Another car slowed down long enough to verify, yes, the vehicle on the side of the road was down for the count, then sped up again, spattering a couple of rocks in the driver's haste to escape.

"Assholes!" Edward snapped as he shook his fist at the retreating taillights of the car.

"They probably didn't want to get involved," Alphonse said. "For all they know, we could be a pair of mass murderers, like those brothers who got caught just a couple of counties away."

Edward snorted his response and ducked back under the hood. Like he could tell what was going on there. Alphonse had to admit he wouldn't be able to tell a radiator from an intake hose. Did cars even have intake hoses? "What are you doing up there, Ed?"

"Nothing."

Alphonse made his way to the front of the car anyway, not trusting his brother. They were on their way to their new school – Edward insisted they drive it, not wanting to take any of their father's money (or the plane tickets he'd left prominently out on their bags) – in the ancient Maverick that Mom drove when she was a girl. When they were really little, she used to take them out in it. Before Dad came back. Before Mom died.

He shook his head, not wanting to think about Mom's death again. Peering at the engine, he wondered at how _little_ of it there was. New cars had pipes and tubes and wires and _things_ crammed into every little space under the hood. The engine in the cavity of the '70 Maverick took up so little room, Alphonse was pretty sure he could hide at least two Edwards in the extra space, possibly three.

…not that he'd actually tell Edward that. "Figure out what's wrong?"

"Nng." Edward slapped his palms on the frame. "It's fucked?"

"I think you mean 'we're fucked'," Alphonse said with a sigh.

"Whatever." Edward flipped his hand while glaring at the engine. As if his sheer, furious stare alone might cause it to start.

Alphonse dug in his pocket, pulling out his cell phone. He turned in a couple of circles, trying to find a signal. Walking back along the car, he pulled open the passenger door and stood on the jamb, holding his phone up over his head. Three bars – probably as best as he'd get in this area. Glad he'd paid for road service, he made the call, shouting out where they were on the road and hearing someone would be along in about forty-five minutes.

"Cell phones – a godsend," Alphonse announced, tucking the phone back in his pocket. "So is being prepared with Triple A."

Edward grunted something noncommittal and probably blasphemous, climbing back into the driver's seat to wait.

Alphonse reached into the back seat and scraped the little cooler out from under his bag. He offered Edward an orange soda, settling on water for himself. They drank in silence for a little bit, Edward staring at or through the steering wheel, Alphonse glancing sidelong at him until Edward finally snarled, "What?"

"Just wondering how long it's going to take for you to explain how this isn't your fault."

"It. Isn't," Edward said through grated teeth. "I had the car checked out before we left!"

Raising his eyebrows, Alphonse stared at Edward. He fidgeted and growled and bristled up, his hands clenching around the steering wheel. He opened his mouth, obviously about to say – or yell – something when the blast of a horn made them jump.

"The hell?" Edward twisted around in his seat. Alphonse couldn't see anything past all their luggage in the back but he could hear the rattle of a diesel motor idling. A big truck rolled past them and stopped. Alphonse watched as the driver's door opened and someone hopped out, barely visible over the top of the tow-truck's bed.

Edward gulped audibly as the driver appeared – a young woman, her white blond hair barely contained by a bandana, a greasy pair of coveralls hiding what looked to be a curvy figure. Alphonse inhaled sharply at the smile she offered as she stopped outside the driver's side of the Maverick.

"Are you the Elrics?" Before either could answer, she went on. "I'm here to tow your car back to the shop."

"You?" Edward strangled out.

Her eyes narrowed sharply. "You got a problem with that? I'm a registered mechanic – have been for the past four years. I can get my license if you want to see it."

"No, no," Alphonse waved his hands in what he hoped was a pacifistic manner. "We believe you! And we really need the help."

Edward nodded so hard, he looked like a bobble head. That seemed to mollify the woman. "All right," she said, softening just a bit. "You'll need to get out so I can hook your car up." Taking in the mass of crap in the back seat, she said, "Heading off to school?"

"We are," Alphonse said when Edward didn't speak up. "Liesenburgh. Have you heard of it?"

The young woman gave them both a look. Her smile became a bit less friendly. "I have. So let's get your car loaded up so you can be on your way, soon as possible."

It took a lot less time than Alphonse expected for her to haul the car up onto the flatbed of the truck. She chained it down to keep it from rolling off and gestured to the cab. "Get in." The painting on the passenger door read, 'Rockbell Automotive' – Alphonse caught a glimpse of it as he opened the door, clinging to it stubbornly when Edward gestured him up into the cab.

"I'm taller than you. I'm not riding the hump," Alphonse said.

Gnashing his teeth didn't get him what he wanted so Edward climbed up, scooting into the middle. His cheeks went bright red when the woman threw the truck into gear to start it moving.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name," Alphonse said sweetly to the woman.

She glanced at them and he caught a flicker of something – humor? – in her eyes at Edward's embarrassment. "Rockbell. A lot of people call me Rocky," she said.

"Rocky doesn't seem like a name for a girl," Edward said, yelping when Alphonse elbowed him. "It doesn't!" he protested.

Rocky huffed and shifted again, making Edward squirm. "My given name's Winry," she said. "Winry Rockbell."

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Rockbell," Alphonse said. "I'm Alphonse and this is my brother, Edward."

"Yeah," Edward said. "And thanks for picking us up."

"Oh, that's just my job." Miss Rockbell smiled at the road ahead. "But don't worry, your bill will make up for anything I have to endure on this drive."

Alphonse almost said, 'Triple A will get the bill,' but Edward's expression glued his mouth shut.

Miss Rockbell went on. "No one's really available to look at your car 'til tomorrow."

"You're a mechanic," Edward pointed out. "Can't you - "

She shot him a look of utter disdain. "Today I'm driving the truck."

"When the truck stops, you won't be driving it!"

"When I unload your car, I have another call I need to go out on!"

Alphonse slid down in the seat. This was going to be the beginning of a wonderful friendship, he was just sure of it.

* * *

 _~ end ~_


End file.
